Thursday, October 31, 2013

Sick-bed (pt 2)

Author's note: I feel like I should apologize for this. The whole scene just came together poorly, in my opinion. I'll try to come up with something better next week.


Mercilessly, he ran his fingertips lightly over each ticklish spot on my foot. Determined not to laugh, I forced myself to breathe slowly. Noting my resistance, he arched an eyebrow. He pressed his nails against the curve of my instep and slowly dragged them down the length of my foot. I bit my lips together. He let go of my foot with a small noise of annoyance.

“Not even a smile,” he mused, “This is serious.” I glared at him in exasperation. He plucked the blanket off me and motioned towards the stairs. “We need to get you to bed right away,” he said, doing his best to look solemn. The mischievous twinkle in his eye shattered his attempted propriety. Deciding to humor him, I rose and made my way across the room. I started up the stairs when he suddenly swept me off my feet and into his arms.

“I can walk up the stairs just fine,” I groused.

“Nope,” he said in mock seriousness, “You might fall and hurt yourself. You are very frail.” I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Even now, you sound exhausted,” he continued, carrying me up the stairs with ease. He carefully navigated the turn in the hallway and made it to our room. Setting me down upon the bed with great care, he said firmly, “You should rest.”

“I'll just lay here and stare at the ceiling,” I said dryly.

“No, no staring at the ceiling,” he chided as he turned away from me. I looked over at him and was about to make a sarcastic comment when all thoughts of snark went out of my mind. Having divested himself of his shirt, my lover simply left me breathless. The sunlight played over his shoulders and made the golden highlights in his hair glow as it fell in a mass of waves down his back. Casually, he tossed the shirt onto the chair beside the door and stepped over to the dresser.

I watched him in the mirror, noting the solemnity of his expression as he prepared my next dose of medication. I realized that I ached to curl up against his muscular chest and listen to his heart beat. At the same time, his tanned, bare flesh cried out for me to run my hands over his skin. I thought about the warmth of his body and smiled. He walked over with the tiny white pills sitting in the palm of his hand.

A sudden chill gripped me and I shuddered. “Hrm,” he mused, “I should get you some water.” I held out my hand, expecting him to drop the medication into it but he walked out of the room. When he returned, he held out the pills between his fingertips. Realizing that I wasn't going to succeed at arguing I could take the medication with out his assistance, I opened my mouth and let him place the bitter things on my tongue. He held the cup of water to my lips and I drank deeply.

As he moved the cup away from me, he suddenly tipped it to the side. The last remaining few drops of water splashed out onto my stomach. He heaved a mock sigh of disapproval. “We must get you out of those wet clothes before you catch a chill,” he said, looking over at me with his exaggerated look of seriousness. Unable to help myself, I giggled.

I sat up and raised my arms over my head, unable to stop giggling as he took the flannel shirt off. He dropped it to the floor and ran a hand down my chest and over my stomach. He took hold of the waistband of my fuzzy, soft sleep pants and peeled them off me with brisk efficiency, pulling my panties off with them. He smiled at how I blushed despite myself when he allowed the hunger he felt to show on his face.

“Body heat will keep you warm,” he said moments before stepping out of his pants. His erection stood out proudly as he walked around to his side of the bed. He stretched out beside me, sitting up long enough to grab the blankets and pull them over us. He wrapped an arm about me as he slid up close beside me. “Mm,” he purred in my ear, “You're chilly. I should fix that.” I shivered at the erotic tones in his voice.

“You know, this isn't a good idea,” I said. The other half of my statement melted into a liquid sigh as his hands moved over my body with a silken touch. Slightly woozy with my fever, I found myself helpless in the face of his merciless gentleness. Feather light caresses seemed to settle upon everywhere from the waist up. Firmly, he guided me to lie upon my back.

He rolled on top of me, his erection pressing insistently between my thighs. I shivered with pleasure and the fever's touch. His mouth settled over mine and he kissed me, stealing my breath. Between the weight of his body and the length of the kiss, my illness weakened lungs burned and I felt like there simply wasn't enough air in me. Rather then panic, this had merely served to heighten the sensations that came from how his body moved against mine.

I struggled with the urge to cough and turned my face away from him as he pushed up onto his arms. Pressing my face into the pillow, I coughed. My body seemed to be held suspended between the pleasure of his nude body against mine and the misery of the aches and pains of illness. He skimmed his hands down my sides and shimmed down my body.

I groaned in pleasure and then gave an undignified sneeze. Rather then being deterred by this, he gave a little laugh before nipping at the skin just over my left hip. I sneezed again and he bit me harder, leaving marks behind. I yelped in protest. When he dragged his tongue over the marks, I found myself positively dizzy with pleasure.

When he lifted his head and began teasing the bite mark with his fingers, I found myself ready to throw the covers off us. Anticipating this, he said firmly, “Don't move.” I thought about saying something but then he parted my thighs and placed a kiss on my labia. He lapped at my sex, slowly stoking my arousal until I shuddered with my orgasm.

I gasped and suffered through another coughing fit. He lifted his head and made a thoughtful sound. He made his way up the bed and looked down at me. “You're not well enough for much more, are you?” he said thoughtfully. I looked up at him, torn between blinding lust and crushing exhaustion. He settled himself between my legs and gently began to fuck me. As my second orgasm rolled over me, he thrust harder and faster. Soon, I had a third orgasm as he climaxed.

The sheets and blankets in disarray, I shivered at the cool breath of air that blew in the open bedroom door. “My poor baby,” he sighed, pulling the covers over me. Wrapping me in his arms, he snuggled up close. As much as I hated to admit it, the warmth of his body helped as much as the rush of sex to soothe the aches out of my back. I thought about expressing concern that he was going to come down with the virus now but sleep dragged me down into unconsciousness, leaving me only enough wits to be aware of the warmth of his body and the soothing nature of his presence.

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